the sun will rise with or without you. what do you think your life amounts to, in the grand scheme of things? / i'd like to think i am a bird, singing a merry song. heard, then gone, then remembered.
⠀
for a moment, daeron has not much to say.. admiring his elder sister’s effortless poise.
his time in court had taught him that grace was seldom without purpose——a courteous word to conceal ambition, ˖
⠀
his words were met with a soft smile. rising gracefully from cold ground she was kneeling on, helaena's hands clasped together on her stomach. ❛ i could leave to find another place, if you would rather
⤿
⠀
a smile to veil an insult.. yet in helaena, he observes none of this contrivance.
it’s rather disarming.. quiet, & unassuming where others so often strive to be noticed.
“you are far too gracious..” ˖
⠀
⠀
as daeron steps beneath the cool arches of the sept, his retreat proves not quite as solitary as he had expected.. yet, her grace’s presence is not unwelcome.
a hushed huff of amusement escapes him.——
⠀
⠀
the cacophony of the pavilion is particularly unrelenting tonight.
thank the gods tessarion’s saddle
requires oiling.. & the sept.. for providing a quiet retreat.
⠀
the sun will rise with or without you. what do you think your life amounts to, in the grand scheme of things? / i'd like to think i am a bird, singing a merry song. heard, then gone, then remembered.